Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nigeria and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Robert Görl to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Dead C,
Susan Cadogan,
Cymande,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
Faraquet,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Saccharine Trust,
Jandek,
Oneida,
Althea and Donna,
The Angels of Light,
the Association,
Duran Duran,
Brick,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Monochrome Set,
The United States of America,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fall,
Clear Light,
Scratch Acid,
CMW,
T. Rex,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unrelated Segments,
H. Thieme,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mad Mike,
The Star Department,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Danielle Patucci,
Colin Newman,
Fear,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
FM Einheit,
Intrusion,
The Smoke,
Hardrive,
Darondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quando Quango,
The Victims,
Bill Near,
DJ Style,
Wire,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.